Lindsay Tomasic - Old 41

Leaving the freeway, this one lane will lead me back home
A natural direction just pulls me along down this road
Ever returning to where every journey’s begun
Wrapped in the fog and the kick dirt of Old 41
 
Here on the bend see the herons glide over the trees
Guiding me on to the place I can do as I please
 
Hundreds of miles past the bridge and a hundred to go
And every mile has a reason to carry me home
Roll down the windows and leave them to linger undone
Wrapped in the fog and the kick dirt of Old 41

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